Blip
by Mad Girl With A Fanfic Account
Summary: A story I wrote for Rashmi (thesixtysevenchevyimpala) because I was very bored. Involves her finding herself in the Supernatural universe. I don't know what the fourth wall is doing, either.


_If I owned Supernatural, do you think I'd be sitting in my room writing up shitty fanfiction all day? _

_This is a story for Rashmi ( .com) I was bored and planned on making it like a page but it got big so… BUT I ACTUALLY FINISHED A FIC THIS IS PROGRESS  
_

* * *

**BLIP**

"Wait… What?" Rashmi wouldn't be surprised if her jaw was actually touching the floor.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rashmi, but we just need to ask you a few routine questions about the murder that occurred next door." This could not be happening. She was dreaming. Or insane. Or both. "Jared? Jensen?" She asked.

"I'm sorry?" Jensen said, though his eyebrows were raised, as if he recognised the names. But…

"Sam? Dean?" Rashmi crossed her fingers.

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it. "What? We're not… How did you…"

"Sam and Dean Winchester." she cut him off. Now it was the brothers who's jaws dropped to the floor. She continued, gaining speed. "Sons of Mary Winchester, who was killed by demon-blood-dude when Sam was six months old. John Winchester became a hunter and raised you two like warriors until Sam got pissed and went to Stanford. John died, the apocalypse didn't happen, you met a bunch of angels, and then Sam was evil for a bit and then went insane, Cas became god, Crowley just kind of showed up and messed everything up a lot, and then Dean and Cas went to purgatory. Then you left your boyfriend in purgatory and you and Sam didn't look for you so you had some heart-to-hearts. Oh, and you both died. A lot."

Sam and Dean stared at her, before Dean finally spoke. "I thought Chuck's books weren't being published anymore. And he disappeared when we stopped the apocalypse?" Rashmi laughed, probably bit maniacally. "No, no, there's a TV show. Here, I'll show you!" She waved them into her house.

"A TV show?" Sam asked, still looking very confused. Rashmi grinned and bobbed her head up and down.

"Awesome." Dean muttered, stepping inside.

"What?" She refreshed the page. But there was no mistaking it - there was nothing there. No Netflix, no Hulu, not even any of the pirate links. Nothing. She looked back up to Sam and Dean, who were looking at her expectingly.

"No, but…" She clicked open her gif folder only to find it just like the web search - completely devoid of anything Supernatural. Hands shaking, she typed in 'Misha Collins'. Nothing.

"Wait… Misha Collins?" Sam's eyes narrowed. Rashmi nodded. Sam turned back to his brother. "That was the name of Cas's 'actor' in that TV show universe."

Rashmi grinned. "The French Mistake! Ooh, that was one of my favourite episodes." Sam and Dean just stared at her.

"Tell us everything."

"So, it's a TV show about us… In which there are books about us, and also a parallel universe in which we film the show about us." Dean looked very, very confused. "And people watch it."

"I watch it every Wednesday. It's on CNN." Rashmi realised she probably sounded a bit insane.

"Okay…" Sam seemed to accept it. "But then how come it doesn't exist?" Rashmi raised her arms in the universal 'how the hell am I supposed to know' gesture. "Parallel universe? Angel magic? Chuck?"

"Chuck?" Sam and Dean said together. Rashmi rolled her eyes.

"Well, he's God, right? Thought you would have figured that out already." She was really, really enjoying this. Probably a bit more then she should be, considering she'd just been catapulted to an alternate universe where pretty much everybody with a vagina was screwed. She smiled giddily, rocking back and forth in her chair. She was talking to Sam and Dean. Samanddean. SAaamaNdDEaaaaaaaa

"You know more about our lives then we do." Sam broke the quiet. "It was bad enough with Chuck's books, but now we're in TV format? You watched every time we died? Everything?"

Dean frowned. "Every time I slept with someone?" Rashmi crossed her arms. "It's TV-14! They didn't _show_ it! Not… too much of it…" She tried to ignore Dean's smirk and failed miserably.

Sam's bitchface activated at full power. "But every time someone was killed, you enjoyed it? These people were real! And you enjoyed watching every single one of them die?"

"It's a TV show! You were actors! None of it was real to us!" Rashmi resisted the urge to mention that there were actually six sympathetic reoccurring characters that hadn't technically died yet. "Besides, do you break down in tears every time Dr. Sexy doesn't save someone? No, because it's not real. Not to you, anyways."

"I do _not_ watch Dr. Sexy." Dean tried to look offended.

"Yes you do." Rashmi and Sam spoke at the same time. Dean opened at closed his mouth. "Right. Brother and… TV show watcher."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Rashmi gave him her brightest smile. Dean flipped her off.

"They're not going to show that." she said. "It'll get cut out." Dean gave her his best bitch-i-will-hurt-you face.

Sam cleared his throat. "There is a _case_ here, Dean. We didn't come here to glare at hyperactives minors, we came here to investigate the_ triple murder_."

"Can I help?" Rashmi asked.

"No." both of them said together.

"I'm sure your mommy wants you home before eight, anyways." Dean smirked. Rashmi put her hands on her hips. "First of all, I'm sixteen, and you two were out ganging monsters and drinking triple red-eyes when you were twelve. Hell, younger. Second, my mom's on a business trip and won't be back for a few weeks."

"Rashmi, you're not even eighteen yet. You've never been hunting. You don't know how to kill a tulpa, or how to deal with werewolves, or exorcize demons. You - "

She cut the older hunter off. "Tulpas are creatures of belief and how you kill them depends on the popular opinion. Pure werewolves need silver bullets to the heart because they're out of control, but some werewolves have control over themselves and don't need to be killed, although you kill them in the same way if you have to. Demons can't cross lines of salt or iron, and you kill them with a demon knife, the Cult, or reciting the latin exorcism _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_, _omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio_, _infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_ _omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte_, _et omnis legio diabolica_, _adjuramus te. _Plus, I also know that Dean didn't have that memorised for a very long while, and it ended up with him almost getting killed by a demon chick. Actually, I know pretty much everything from your lives. In some ways, I know you better then you know each other, and I also know that Cas is coming back in two episodes so if you think I'm staying behind, you guys obviously have no idea how the teenage fangirl works. So when are we going?"

Dean looked at Sam, mouth open in astonishment. Sam raised his eyebrows. Suddenly, he whirled around and glared at Rashmi. "Fine. You can come. But do everything we ask you to, and you tell us everything we want to know."

Rashmi bobbed her head up and down. "Deal!" She couldn't believe it. She actually managed to convince them to let her hunt with them. SHE WAS HUNTING WITH SAM AND DEAN.

"First, though, we need food." Dean rubbed his stomach. "Any good diners around?"

Rashmi moved her fries around her plate with her fork, barely eating. Next to her, Dean was almost finished with his double-bacon cheeseburger, and Sam was ignoring his salad in favour of his computer.

"Hey guys, I think I got something." Sam turned his computer around showed them the screen. "Apparently, there was a survivor to an attack just like the other three murders. Name Audrey Kaylin. Eight years old. The mother, Beatrice McCarthy, has recently put her in therapy. She's refusing any contact with the police and said that she 'Will never let her daughter even make eye contact with an adult male again.'"

Dean set down his fork. "Well, this is going to be annoying."

Sam stared at Rashmi. "Maybe not."

"Hey, Audrey." Rashmi sat down next to where to the young girl was doing homework on a park table. "Need some help?" The girl looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Do you know how to multiply?"

Rashmi smiled. "Sure."

"What are you doing?" a voice screeched from across the playground. "Get away from my daughter!" Beatrice McCarthy squawked.

"Go away, mommy. She's helping me with my math." Rashmi put on her best apologetic face. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Your daughter seemed to need help and I thought I could give her a few tips." Ms. McCarthy stared at her for a few moments before resuming her glare. "I'll be watching you."

It was kind of nice to do math with Audrey. The problems were simple enough, and the minutes flew by. Finally, there were only a couple equations left. Rashmi took a breath.

"What happened to you on October 27th?"

Audrey put down her pencil. "Mommy says that I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Well, Mommy's not here right now, is she?"

Audrey nodded slowly. "T-there were these men. I was walking back from school with one of mommy's friends when they… they had a gun and yelled that if anybody moved then they'd get shot." Audrey's lip wobbled. "They grabbed my head and cut some of my hair off. Then they grabbed mommy's friend and said they n-needed her blood. And then they had a knife and I ran away before they could kill me too. But their eyes… "

Rashmi took the young girl's hand. "What about their eyes?"

Audrey shook her head furiously. "Mommy said that I was wrong and that I shan't ever tell anyone."

"You're not wrong. I think you saw something that night, something that scared you. And it's okay. You can tell me." Rashmi slid off the bench and kneeled near Audrey, exactly at eye level. "You can trust me."

The young girl swallowed. "Their eyes… T-they were black."

"Audrey was attacked by demons on the way home from school. They took some of her hair and drained a full grown women's blood." Rashmi jogged back to where Sam and Dean were waiting.

"They took her _hair_?" Dean looked slightly horrified. Rashmi nodded. Dean looked like he was about to say something but just shook his head. "All right, figure out where she lives and where she goes to school. And as much about the women who was murdered as you can."

"Already there." Sam was typing furiously. "Audrey was goes to Amelia Reid Elementary and they live on 1895 Fillion street. The woman who was murdered's name was Ginevra Smulders and died from a slash on her neck, but there was no blood on the ground."

"Someone took the blood of a sixty-year-old woman?"

"Seems like."

Dean stood up. "Well, looks like we have our destination. Somewhere between Audrey's house and her school."

The Impala pulled up onto Fillion street, the sound of tires breaking the silence that cloaked the small neighbourhood.

"It's too quiet." Dean said immediately after the car turned off. "This can't be good." Rashmi raised her eyebrows. "It's six o clock in a suburban neighbourhood in Nobodytown. Were you expecting a rave?"

"It's just a bit eerie, that's all." Dean said, tucking his gun into his belt.

"It is, isn't it?"

A man wearing a crisp tailored suit stood in front of them. Rashmi hadn't even noticed him come up. "May I help you with anything, Sir?"

Dean smiled, but his hand was hovering over his gun, ready to fire at any moment. "I'm Agent Malcolm, this is Agent Angus. We're with the FBI. Do you know exactly where Ginevra was murdered?"

"And who is this young lady? Surely she is too young to have such adult topics discussed around her."

Dean looked back at Rashmi, lost. Evidently he had forgotten that she'd come on the hunt.

"I'm… Molly Hooper. I was across the street at the time of the murder and they thought I could help them solve the case." She smiled as sincerely as she could.

"Of course, Madam. Right this way." He strode off to the left. The brothers had no choice but to follow, Rashmi trailing behind.

"Is it much further?" Dean asked, suspicious. They had been walking for almost five minutes with no sign of stopping.

"No, not much." The strange man didn't even turn to look around. This guy was definitely shady, and they all knew it. But it's not like they could just pull a gun out at him without being sure that he was a demon.

"Um, sir… It wouldn't be on _Christo_ street, would it?" she asked innocently.

The effect was instantaneous. The demon whirled around, eyes black, teeth bared.

"No, it wouldn't." he hissed. Suddenly, four more demons walked melted from the shadows, surrounding them. "I suppose the game couldn't last forever."

Ruby's knife flashed in the dim light as Dean tore out the throat of the first demon.

"Rashmi! Run!" he shouted.

A demon popped up in front of her and Rashmi screamed. Swearing, Dean stabbed it through the heart.

"I said run." he growled.

Soon, the five demons were dead. Aww, how cute. Wasn't there a time when they had a problem with one?

Suddenly, a car alarm sounded out. "The Impala!" Dean ran faster then Rashmi had ever seen him run before. "No, no, no, no, no!" They rounded the corner to see the Impala surrounded by a ring of broken glass. A group of what seemed to be more demons disappeared around the corner, arms full of weapons.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, running forward and tackling a straggler, carrying only a single rocksalt gun. The demon collapsed on the ground, and only then did she notice the blood on his arms and torso - he must have fled the fight.

"Why are you murdering these people?" The hunter's voice was harsh and unforgiving.

The demon laughed. "Crowley needs them for the ritual."

"What ritual?"

"The one at the Drumlins house." The demon didn't seem worried that he was giving out so much information at all. Which was very worrisome in of itself.

"What's going to happen there?"

"You can't torture an angel you don't have."

Dean suddenly jerked forward, pressing the knife into the demon's chest. "What is he going to do?" he shouted. "Tell me!"

The demon only laughed one last time before hurling himself onto the knife. He collapsed, the echo of his last laugh still on his face.

There was silence for a few minutes before Dean finally looked up, eyes full of pain. "Cas." he whispered. "Crowley's going to bring Cas back."

"Okay, so we'll check out house tonight, and - "

"No." Rashmi hated herself for saying it. "You're not supposed to."

Sam and Dean turned to look at her. "What do you mean? Rashmi, it's _Cas_ we're talking about here. I'm assuming you know that he's kind of a big deal to me? I'm not going to abandon Cas, end of question." Dean's voice was angry.

"No. That's not what I meant. I mean - this is a canon plot line. This is season eight episode five, Blood Brother. Cas doesn't come back until episode seven. He won't be there tonight."

"What do you mean, episodes? This is real life, Rashmi, not an episode of your dumb TV show! It's friggin real!"

"You said friggin." Rashmi said miserably. Dean looked confused. "So? What the hell does that - "

"TV-14." Sam said, finally understanding. "We're talking in TV-14."

Rashmi nodded. "I'm guessing someone's watching this - or it's just a really, really self-aware fic. The entire thing is being set up like an episode of Supernatural. You investigated a murder by impersonating FBI at the beginning - Someone died, and that would have been shown. You met the character-of-the-week, there was research done, and then there's going to be a climax. Neither of you are going to die, because it's not a season finale, and there's probably going to be a random heartfelt confession at the end as well."

"And you…?" Sam asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"I'm the weekly vagina. Last week's survived, two in a row's pushing it. Yeah, I'm probably gonna die." She gave a humourless laugh, trying not to cry. "It's cool. I figured it out a while ago. I'll help you guys anyways and just hope this is actually a fic."

"So what do we have to do?" Dean asked, sympathy replacing the anger in his eyes. Of course, he knew more then most what it's like to know that you're going to die.

"Go south. Hunt there. There'll be a case, it'll go fine, come back here after you're done. You might get a clue on Kevin back here, as well. Seven's called "A Little Slice of Kevin. Probably not literally." She tried to smile.

"We'll see you then." Sam shut the trunk of the Impala.

"We will be back." Dean said. "Your knowledge of your stupid TV show is our best shot at finding Cas. And Kevin, apparently."

"Oh, and if anything comes up…" Sam rummaged around in his pocket before pulling out a card. "Call us on this number. We'll be here."

"Got it." she said. The three of them stood there for a minute, not really sure what to say, before Sam and Dean finally said their goodbyes and got into the car.

"See you soon!" Rashmi called as the Impala disappeared down the long road.

"Soon." she whispered, tracing the number on the card.

_I'm going to die._

She knew the sound well. It was the sound that had shaped her life, the sound that made her cry and scream for joy at the same time.

Rashmi opened the door just as the Impala pulled up, blasting out Metallica. "You guys took too long," she called as Sam and Dean walked up.

"Five days isn't _that_ long." Sam said, pulling her into a hug.

"You obviously forgot what it was like to be in school." she replied matter-of-factly, hugging him back. Okay maybe it was because she's going to die and he feels bad bUT SHE WAS HUGGING SAM WINCHESTER AND HE WAS LIKE A GIANT TEDDY BEAR MADE OF ABS

"You're in your pyjamas." Dean said by way of greeting. Rashmi shrugged. "It's eleven o clock at night, in case you haven't noticed.

"Go get changed. We'll leave in ten."

"How'd the hunt go?" Rashmi asked once she was clothed in a normal shirt and jeans.

"New kind of thing. Some kind of thing that absorbs the knowledge of everything it eats. We used Sammy as bait." Dean laughed, but his eyes were worried, cold. They pulled into a small clearing partially concealed by the woods. Suddenly, they stopped - was that voices? Peering through the branches, they saw the flashing lights of a police car - Crowley had evidently set up a police stakeout.

"This complicates our plan a bit." Dean muttered. Turning back to the Impala, he opened up the small box of fake IDs. Or rather, the small box without the fake IDs - every single one was gone.

"Dammit!" Dean growled. "The demons must have taken them when they broke into the car."

"So what are we going to do?" Rashmi asked.

_(I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT COPS AT ALL SO THIS IS PROBABLY COMPLETELY INACCURATE BUT WHATEVER)_

"Hi, could you please help me, someone stole my - "

"No." the police officer said. "Can you read? This is a stakeout. Under no circumstances are we to leave our position. We're not here in case some idiot gets his wallet stolen. Go file a police report."

"But please, sir, it's - "

"I _said_, go file a police report." The officer looked very, very annoyed. Dean looked around at the twenty or so armed police as if calculating whether he could beat them all up before turning around and stalking back into the trees.

"I never knew how hard it would be with our fake IDs stolen. Okay, plan A scrapped, plane B…?"

Rashmi rolled her eyes. "Amateurs," she muttered, enjoying their matched looks of annoyance. "_This_ is how you do it." Suddenly making her voice shrill and scared, she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help! Help! I'm being attacked!" She stared at Sam and Dean. "Say something dude-like." she hissed.

"Uh… Shush, little girl, or I'll shoot you!" Sam tried. Rashmi screamed again. This time, Sam understood his queue. Pulling out his gun, he fired at random into the trees.

Peering through the branches, Rashmi saw over fifteen officers run into the woods. The lead officer looked a little lost; obviously the men had run into the forest without permission. Thank god for shitty cops. She almost felt sorry for him. "Good one." Dean whispered appreciatively. "Maybe we should bring around girls more often. Handy."

Sam's head was turned, but Rashmi guessed that his bitchface was on again. "Come on! They won't be gone for long."

Sam and Dean knocked out the remaining officers with ease and soon they were in the threshold of the abandoned mansion.

"Here." Dean handed her a shotgun. "You'll need it."

"Um, you guys are aware that I have no idea how to aim a gun, right?" Rashmi stared at the gun in her hands, suddenly feeling useless.

"Doesn't matter. Just shoot and try not hit us." Dean pushed in front of her, turning on his flashlight. "Pretend to know what you're doing and try and distract them."

Rashmi didn't mention that she didn't really know how to shoot, either. Oh, this was going to go _great_.

Dean kicked open the door with a bang. Rashmi flinched - it was too quiet. Shouldn't this place be swarming with demons? Sam and Dean seemed just as confused as her, their flashlight beams sweeping over the musty room. "You sure we have the right place?" Dean asked, brow furrowed.

"Definitely. Look, some spots of the floor are cleaner then others - someone must of dropped something and cleaned it up a little too well. There's no dust at all on the clean spots, so it must have been very recent - before the police stakeout happened."

Dean stared at her. "How did you notice?" She gave him a look. "I watch Sherlock. You pick up on stuff like this."

"Hey, check this out!" Sam called from the next room. "I think I found where Cas'll be coming." It looked exactly how they expected it to - a pentagram of sticky red liquid surrounded by various herbs and witchy-looking items.

"No phone connection." Sam muttered. Rashmi pulled hers out. "No wifi, either. This entire place is completely cut off. Well, that was fairly ominous.

Suddenly, the centre of the pentagon of it glowed. "It's happening!" Dean yelled as a flash of white light pierced through the darkness before disappearing. She blinked away away the brightness that was probably now permanently embedded in her eyeballs.

"_Cas_?" And there he was. There was no mistaking the scruffy hair and dirty trenchcoat - or the very confused look. "Dean? Sam? And…"

Dean cleared his throat. "This is Rashmi. She's from an alternate universe where she watches our lives on TV and somehow convinced us to let her help us hunt." Rashmi waved.

"Hi." Cas didn't look too surprised. "How did you know I'd be here?" His eyes were gaunt and worried, barely acknowledging Dean's presence.

"Beat up some demons who gave us information. Well, they did. I just kind of stood there. Screamed a bit." She was talking. To Castiel. SHEWASTALKINGTOFUCKINGCASTIE LANGELOFTHELORD

And Dean was there. Maybe she should set them up or something.

"Where's Crowley?" Sam looked around. "You'd think he'd come to collect his prize."

"It doesn't matter. Cas is safe. We'll get him out of here and then come back and gang those demon bastards." Dean smiled. "How are you, old buddy?" A sudden crashing sound cut off the angel's answer. "The door!" Rashmi and Sam ran to the front of the house, and sure enough: The door was shut tight. "Come help us open it!" she called, rattling the handle uselessly.

"One sec. I'm just going to scout around the basement for a bit!" came Dean's reply. "Try and find windows or something!"

Sam looked at Rashmi. "Lets go check for windows then." he said, turning his flashlight up to full power. "And if anything comes up, shoot it."

The first six windows were locked tight. Same with number seven, and number eight…

"This is useless." Sam grumbled after number sixteen had bars across it.

Suddenly, a faint cry echoed from the inside of the house. Rashmi looked at Sam.

"Was that…?"

"Cas. Come on!" He sprinted into the next room, trying to find the source of the shout. Rashmi ran along, trying to keep up with the taller hunter

They burst into the main basement room. Dean was there, looking at the floorboards or something.

"Dean? What happened?" Rashmi was out of breath.

"I don't need your help. I got this." Dean said. Sam narrowed his eyes. "You sure? We heard Cas screaming…"

"He's fine. Just scouting ahead." Dean's smile was easy.

"Hey, Dean, let's see that demon tattoo." Rashmi pushed herself in front of the taller hunter. He looked down at her for a while before pushing back the collar of his shirt, revealing the intact tattoo. "I'm not a demon, Rashmi. I just want some time to do this alone. I thought you'd get that, Sam. I don't need your help. You aren't the man you were before I left for purgatory - you're weak. So sorry if I hurt your poor widdle feeling by wanting to hunt alone. Maybe I'm tired of you, freak."

Sam took a step back, mouth open wide. "I-I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone." he said in a small voice. Rashmi looked from Dean and Sam, confused. Well _this_ wasn't in any of the episodes that had aired so far. Was this what Dean really felt? It just seemed so out of character. Maybe somebody different wrote this episode? She didn't know.

"Now if you'll excuse me…" Dean turned around, shoving the door open with his foot. "I have work to do." The door slammed shut, and Rashmi could hear him locking it.

As soon as the door was shut, Sam staggered as if he had been holding up a great weight. Sitting down on the bottom step of the stairs, he examined the knife Dean had given him as if it held the meaning off life. After a few minutes, Rashmi sat down next to him - it was slightly less awkward then just hovering around. He didn't even seem to notice her.

Rashmi racked her brains for something to say. "You know in season - I mean, when you and Dean stopped the apocalypse?" Sam nodded, still staring at the floor.

"Well, you know that phone call that you got? From Dean?" By now he was used to her knowing things that she shouldn't, but he still looked upset at the memory. "Yeah." he said, twisting his face into a sad, pained smile, staring at the knife in his hands. "I remember."

"That wasn't your brother." Now he looked up at her. "That wasn't Dean. It was a trick. Ruby tricked you. She said the things that she knew would hurt you the most said by the person you care most about. You hear me? Dean loves you. He would never hurt you. Whoever was saying that… It's not Dean. It can't be Dean."

Sam looked at her, eyes slightly wet. After a few moments, he sighed. "We checked his demon tattoo, Rashmi."

Now she stood up. "And possession is the only thing that can do that? Just forgetting about mind control? Hallucinations? Fear monster things? Do you _want_ that to have been your brother?"

Sam didn't answer. Suddenly, Rashmi understood.

"It's because you believe it. You believe that you've been a failure to your brother. You believe that you _deserve_ to be called a freak."

"Why wouldn't I be a freak?" Sam's voice was hopeless. "You've seen your TV show. Tell me one good reason why I don't deserve this."

"Because nobody who's given up their life to save the world ever deserves what you have. And I'm pretty sure that Dean and Cas are in danger, so I'm going. You can tag along if you like." She walked towards the door. "So are you coming?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." Thank god. She really, really didn't want to do this alone. "Come on, then." she hissed, striding down the hallway. "This way!" she called, pointing towards a door. Sam nodded. "The scuff marks on the floor. Someone's been in here recently."

She twisted the handle and the door creaked open. "It's unlocked." The passageway in front of them was long and dark, twisting downwards into the gloom. Sam had to duck to get through the small doorway, and even so, a few of his hairs got caught in the frame. Swearing slightly under his breath, he pulled them free.

"You know, if we survive this, you are so letting me cut your hair." Rashmi's face was full of amusement.

"Deal." Sam replied, striding off into the darkness. Rashmi tried not to think about how quickly he had agreed.

After a few minutes of walking, Sam's flashlight landed on a wooden door. "Over there." Rashmi rattled the handle, but the door stayed firm. "It's locked!"

"Here, look, there's a little crack in the wall." Sam pressed his face against the tiny hole.

"What's in there?" Rashmi asked. Sam didn't reply.

"Sam? Sam. What's through that crack?"

"No. No." Sam muttered. Well, that was enough. Pushing him out of the way, she peered through the tiny hole. And suddenly, she understood.

"Oh… my… god."

The scene below them would haunt Rashmi's dreams for years. A faint fluorescent light showed Cas chained to the wall, covered in blood and barely breathing. Every single torture instrument known to man was sitting on a table beside the angel, and far too many of them were covered in red. Standing next to him, holding a jagged knife, was… Dean?

"You know, there was a reason that I left you behind in purgatory." Dean walked towards the angel's broken form. "It's because you were useless. We all knew it. Poor little angel with bad dreams." Dean - it could't be Dean! - traced Cas's jaw with the knife.

"You're… not Dean." Castiel's voice was thick with pain.

"Break down the door!" Rashmi was frantic. This could not be happening. "I'm trying!" Sam hissed, but the door wouldn't budge. "Oh my god, do _something_!"

"Oh, I'm not, am I?" Suddenly, Dean's arm moved down and cut a long, ragged cut across the angels face. "You're wrong."

"Stop… Please…" There was nothing left for Cas to do but beg. He pulled uselessly at his chains. "P-please…"

"No."

"Pick the lock!" Rashmi resisted the urge to shut her eyes, to curl up in a ball and scream. That wouldn't help anyone. But there was _so much blood_…

"I don't have anything! It's in the Impala!" Sam's hands scrambled frantically around his pockets.

Dean walked over to the table and grabbed a piece of barbed wire, holding it up in the dim light. "You know why Sam isn't looking for you?" The wire shined in the dim light. "It's because he doesn't care. Nobody ever cared, Cas." He lashed out, grabbing Castiel's head and wrapping the wire around the angel's neck. "Don't you get it?" he hissed as the angel cried out. "Nobody would ever, ever care about you. Do you remember how many people you killed? During your little spree as god?" Castiel's back arched in pain and Dean tightened the wire. "I _said_," he growled. "Do you remember?"

"Here! Use this!" Rashmi pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. "And _hurry_!" She didn't stop to think about what would happen if they got in. "Got it!" Sam twisted the bobby pin one last time and the door burst open.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, pointing his gun at his brother.

It took less then two seconds for Dean to be at the Castiel's side, angel blade pressing into his neck.

"One move and Castiel dies slow."

"All right! All right!" Sam slowly put the gun on the floor. "Don't hurt him."

"Now send the girl over."

"No." Sam's jaw was set. "Rashmi, get out of the house."

"I _said_," Castiel groaned as Dean pressed the blade closer to his throat. "Send the girl over."

Sam shot her a warning look, but Rashmi was already moving. "Just don't hurt him. Either of them." Dean clicked a cuff onto her wrist, locking her to the wall. Great.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. "Hey, Dean?" she said, heart beating furiously. Slowly reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone. "Say cheese." Suddenly realising what she was doing, the hunter knocked the phone out of her hand, but it was too late. "Shifter!" she screamed at Sam. "It's not your brother! Use silver!"

This time, the shifter was too slow. One shot, two shots, three shots of Sam's second silver gun burst through the air and hit it right in the chest. Rashmi felt a chill run through her as it collapsed to the floor.

"I'm fine! Go help Cas!" She hissed as Sam rushed to her. "I'm not the one who was just brutally tortured!"

"I can't carry him out of here alone!"

"Then go find Dean! I'll be fine!"

"But where is he?" Sam's eyes were wild, his hair even more disheveled then usual.

Rashmi hit her head lightly against the wall. _Think, think, think._ Wait… "Well, I'd start by tearing off these boards."

"Hollow." Sam nodded. "Good job."

The first board revealed nothing. Same with the second, and the third. As the cloud of dust from the fourth board dispersed, Sam clicked on his flashlight to reveal a very pissed looking Dean, tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth.

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked as soon as his brother tore out the gag. "What happened to him?"

"He's in there." Honestly, Sam could not have sounded more forbidding. Swearing, Dean ripped free of his remaining restraints and pushed out of the small closet, blinking in the light.

"No. Cas. Cas!" Dean sprinted to where the angel still hung from the chains. "Cas! Talk to me!" He pulled the angel's head up.

"No… Please… no more." Castiel murmured. "S-stop…"

Dean turned back to Sam and Rashmi, eyes wild. "What happened. What did they do to him?"

"He was tortured by a shifter. Who looked like you." Rashmi said softly. She looked over to the angel's broken form. "It's okay, Cas. That's the real Dean. You're safe."

"Safe…" the angel whispered, whole body relaxing.

"Come help me with this!" Dean shouted. Sam hurried over with his bobby pin and soon Cas was released, falling into the hunter's arms.

"Dean…" The angel relaxed into Dean's embrace.

"Don't ever do that again, okay?" Dean's face was right next to Castiel's.

"Okay." Cas said softly.

Dean hesitated before grabbing the angel's hair and kissing him full on the lips. Castiel gave out a small moan, though whether it was in pain or pleasure Rashmi wasn't quite sure. Although he reacted with surprise at first, soon his lips were pressing back on the hunters, kissing him as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"Saw that coming." Sam said.

"Tell me about it."

Finally, the hunter and the angel broke apart.

"Was that… okay?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Very." Cas's mouth twitched upwards into a smile. "Very okay."

Dean turned back to Sam and Rashmi, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, what are you standing there for? Help me get him out!"

"Not so fast." Sam, Dean and Rashmi's heads turned in unison towards the crisp tailored suit and Scottish accent.

"Hello, boys. And girl?" Crowley looked mildly surprised. "Bit young to be a hunter, are you?"

"Hello, Crowley." Rashmi said coolly, hoping she didn't sound as excited as she felt. Hey, he was a pretty cool villain! Ignoring the fact he was probably about the kill them all.

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "So you've heard of me. Have you been spreading rumours, boys?"

"Screw you." Dean growled, still standing protectively in front of the angel.

Rashmi stepped forward, well, stepped forward as best she could with her hand still chained to the wall.

"Oh, I've heard the rumours. I know that you've been the friend and the enemy of Sam and Dean for a very long time. I know that you were betrayed by Cas in a plot to take all the souls in purgatory, probably because he was pissed at you because you tried to hurt Sam and Dean. And since then you've wanted revenge on him, but you realised that it wouldn't be as fun when he was insane. So you brought him back in the hope to torture him with a shifter who looked like Dean, because Dean's the only person that Cas really trusts." Of course, the last part was mostly speculation. Call it a educated guess. AKA the slightly more professional-sounding way of saying 'I have no idea what the fuck is going on.'

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "What kind of blood did Castiel trick me with?"

"Dog's blood." Rashmi said automatically. The demon's smile widened.

"Even the brothers don't know what blood I used." _Crap_.

"Cas told me." she backtracked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean sneaking up behind the demon, Ruby's knife raised in her hand. _Keep his attention_, his eyes said. Rashmi took a deep breath. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. She crossed her arms.

"Actually, he didn't. I come from an alternate universe where I watch your lives on TV." Crowley's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch.

"Oh! That's new." Dean was right behind him now.

"Yeah. Tell me, did you ever meet Richard Nixon?" Fine. So shoot her. She still wanted her crossovers. "Oh, and… Look behind you." Crowely whirled around and… Dean plunged the knife into his chest. The second he did, Rashmi knew something was wrong. The knife didn't crackle with demony-ness like it normally did; it went straight in like a normal knife.

Crowley smiled.

"You are a very, very bad girl."

With a flick of his wrist, Sam and Dean were hurled through the air and slammed against the wall.

"Now, I'll deal with you later, little prophet… thing. Right now, I have some hunters to kill." Blood splattered to the ground as Sam and Dean had what looked like an internal shredding of their organs.

Rashmi pulled uselessly against her cuff. Why didn't she have another bobby pin? Or _something_? And even if he could get out… What the hell was she supposed to do? Crowley wasn't a demon, and whatever he was, it probably wasn't going to be easy to stop. All she had was a stupid knife that couldn't do anything._ Think, think. _This wasn't a season finale! They weren't supposed to die! Maybe… she wasn't meant to be there. She was messing everything up. That's why there was no Kevin in this episode, why there wasn't any blood brotherness in the other. The only one that went according to the episode was… the one she wasn't in. She was the key. She was wrong. But what could she do? And whatever she needed to do, it needed to be fast: Sam and Dean were barely breathing. What did she know about Crowley that might help? Just a couple of stupid fan theories.

But…

_Not supposed to be here._

_Demon knife not working._

_Somehow more powerful then most other demons._

_Raphael trusted him._

And the biggest, most important though bouncing around her head…

_The vagina always dies._

Before she could change her mind, Rashmi dragged the knife across her wrist.

The amount of pain was blinding. Blood was pumping but draining out, pain, pain, _pain_, white hot agony obliterating any other though but she had to think because she had a plan? Yes, she had a plan, and it didn't involve surrendering to the torture, the torture that was her wrist pumping, pumping, pumping, dying cold and hot and pain. A memory, something faint because who remembers? But a memory, a need, a purpose, because there was a goal to the knife besides the burning in her blood and the emptiness in her head and the overwhelming dark shadowy blackness in her mind that was taking over and destroying and cutting everything apart.

Hand shaking, she painted the angel sigil on the wall, painted the sign in her mind with her pain. Crowley whirled around, eyes blazing, but it was too late, too late, she was falling, dying, emptying.

She dragged her hand across the sigil and everything disappeared in a flash of white.

_We can't just leave her there!_

_It's not too late!_

_Wake up, godammit!_

The first thing that came into her mind, of course, was something along the lines of "_holy fuck my wrist hurts._" The second thing that came through her mind was surprise. At first, everything seemed hazy, but soon memories began to form in her mind: something about a shifter, handcuffs, torture and angels, and Crowley. And pain. Pain that made the throbbing in her wrist seem like a paper cut. She had cut her wrist. On purpose.

"She's awake!" Rashmi's vision cleared to reveal the face of a very concerned looking hunter. Well, what she assumed was the face of a very concerned looking hunter, because most of it was obscured by hair.

"Rashmi. Rashmi! Can you hear me?" Sam asked.

"You really need to cut your hair." she murmured sleepily. Sam's face had a momentary lapse into bitchface mode. "Yeah, she can hear me."

Rashmi heard footsteps as Dean and Cas rushed into the room.

"Where am I?" She tried to sit up but the world suddenly spun around her, casting sparks into the corners of her vision. She felt a hand on her shoulder pushing her back on the bed.

"Sleep. You are safe now." came the gravelly voice of Castiel.

A couple millennia later, Rashmi was finally well enough to walk around.

"How long has it been?" she asked, stumbling around the corner. Sam checked his watch. "About… thirty-six hours." Well. Close enough.

"What's happened since?" she mumbled, still half asleep. She grabbed a brightly coloured package from the counter and ripped it open, stuffing the cake into her mouth. God bless those stupid caffeinated cookies from Think Geek.

Sam cleared his throat. "Well, after you got rid of Crowley with an angel banishing sigil, we brought Cas to a hospital and took care of him until he had enough strength to heal himself. We didn't really know what to do with you, since you were…"

"Dead. Like actually, one-hundred percent dead." Dean cut his brother off. "And we couldn't exactly tell the police; we'd be the number one suspects. So… We left you. But after Cas was healed, he said that he could bring you back. Something about a blip in reality or something. So we came back and he dragged you from God-knows where and you've been resting for the past day and a half."

Rashmi was at a momentary loss for words. "You… You can do that? Just bring people back?"

"Well, you're an anomaly. You were never supposed to exist. Bringing you back from the nothingness was fairly easy because of your lack of existence." Cas said calmly.

"Enough of that." Dean growled. "How did you know Crowley was an angel? And why did you have to kill yourself to stop him? You could have easily just cut your palm and been fine." Rashmi shrugged.

"The Crowley-is-an-angel thing was just a guess. The fan theory's been circulating around for a while. Might as well give it a shot."

"That doesn't explain why you had to kill yourself!" Sam's voice was angry.

"No, it wasn't. I had to kill myself because I was keeping you from surviving."

Dean looked around, confused. "What?"

Rashmi sighed. "Look, me being in your universe was a mistake. I messed up the plot-lines and formats for the show by being here. That's why episode five had nothing to do with Blood Brothers, and there was no Kevin in this episode. There was meant to be, I just messed it up."

Sam nodded, slowly understanding. "We survive because we're in a TV show. And if you ruin the format for the TV show, then we lose the immunity."

"Yeah. Or at least, I think so."

"You killed yourself so that two characters on a TV show could live?" Dean asked.

"It's not a TV show. Or at least, not only. There's a whole universe of people out there, and for all I know every single one of them will die if you two are gone. So I had to."

"You weren't even sure your theory was right."

"It was the only thing I had." She didn't know where the strength to do it came from.

"I don't know how our plotlines are going to react now that Rashmi's back. The fact that she was resurrected from our reality may help, but I'd avoid crossing timelines too much." Cas said calmly. "I will take you home."

Rashmi smiled. "One last thing I have to do." She looked over at Sam. "Come here."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Where are the scissors?"

An hour later, the majority of Sam's hair was on the ground. She picked up a strand. My god, it was so _fluffy_. "You can come in!" she called. Dean and Cas opened the door.

"How do I look?" Sam asked anxiously. Dean took one look at his brother and almost burst out laughing. Rashmi handed Sam a mirror, trying to hold back her own laughter. Sam's messy, spiky, mop of hair didn't have bangs _quite_ as low as season one, and his hair didn't go out _quite_ as much on the sides… but other then that, Sam's hair was pretty much a messier version of what he had eight years ago.

"I think it looks better. It was too long before." Cas said. Dean laughed. "Yeah, before you looked like a hobo. But seriously man… It looks good." Sam smiled. "Thanks."

_Wait a second… _

Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. "Hey, I think I know what happened. With me." Sam, Dean and Cas all looked at her. "Well, on this website some anonymous user offered to write a fic for me. And she said that she'd write me cutting Sam's hair in it, and a couple other things that did show up over the past few days."

"So we're living… a _fanfiction_?" She couldn't tell whether Dean's face was full of more horror or excitement. Rashmi shrugged. "Just a theory."

"Well, I'm going to find and kill whatever sadistic bastard wrote it." Sam said darkly.

"Hey…" Dean's hand found Castiel's. "It wasn't all so bad." He leaned in, kissing the angel softly on the lips.

"Aww, they're adorable."

"Can't believe they took so long to figure it out."

"Tell me about it."

"… Want to go order pizza?"

**FIN**

_ "Hey, mom, what's this?" Rashmi's mother entered the room. "They appeared on my computer when you were gone. It's all these files from this really weird TV show." She clicked one open._

_ "… Honey, that's Supernatural. You watch it every Wednesday." _

_ "No, I really don't. Look at these things! Making fun of all those deaths with weird monsters."_

_ "… None of those deaths ever really happened, sweetie. It's a TV show. You sure you're okay?"_

_ "None of it happened? What do you mean? Look!" She opened up google and typed in 'empty croatoan town'. Nothing. Nothing on the weird disease that affected an entire city and left almost everybody dead, or the two serial killers that seemed to die a bunch of times before weirdly disappearing. _

_ "But… but… it happened!" Google must be messed up. No way could all of those horrible things not have happened. Not in her universe, anyways._

* * *

` "CUT!" the director called. "That was incredible! Great idea, by the way, to send the girl into the Supernatural dimension. Made a great plot point for the show. All right everybody, we're going to shoot some scenes from episode eight now… "

**ACTUALLY FIN**


End file.
